


i can hardly stand myself

by Jacks8n



Series: jacks8n's overwatch canon au [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: But I wrote it cause I'm tired of hanzo being a dick and McCree being an idiot in all of them, Friendship, Gen, Let me be honest folks, M/M, Mutually affectionate, Pining, This is another one of those fics where they talk outside the watchpoint, so here you go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacks8n/pseuds/Jacks8n
Summary: Hanzo has, to his horror, feelings.





	

Skidding his way into middle-age, Hanzo felt woefully behind on life. He had devoted decades of his life to the Shimada Clan and to being the perfect heir, and then another regretting what that had meant. He had never dated before, he had hardly had any friends, and his capacity to healthily handle his emotions was… limited. He felt as though everyone else had passed him by, learning and growing while he had stagnated in sour soil.  
  
“I don’t know what to do,” said Hanzo, unusually honest thanks to the rice wine in his system. (Genji had replaced the flask in his hand with a glass of water.)  
  
“Just, be cool,” said Genji. “Warm but not too eager. McCree’s an open book, you’ll know how he’s feeling.”  
  
Hanzo had responded with an embattled moan. Genji made it all sound so easy,made it all seem so effortless.  
  
Hanzo liked McCree. If he was being honest with himself, probably more than he had ever liked anyone before. McCree was generous and patient. He had a wonder about him when he was excited. His smile was broad and warm, and his hands were strong. Hanzo felt as though he was in good hands when McCree led ops. He made Hanzo feel safe.  
  
The problem he had encountered was that he didn’t know how to _explain_ it. Actually starting a conversation on the topic was out of the question; a million scenarios that ended with McCree never speaking to him again would pop up the second he considered it. The only remaining course of action was to hope McCree felt the same and did something about it.  
  
Genji had been frustrated by Hanzo’s lack of initiative in the situation, but Hanzo didn't see it changing anytime soon. Besides, Zenyatta had spoken about having to be comfortable in the company of oneself before one could ever hope to build a healthy relationship. Hanzo felt there was a lot of truth in that. He also felt he was a long ways off from not hating everything about the person he saw in the mirror.  
  
And so he had been kind to McCree, but he hadn’t made a move. McCree had been kind back. They'd talked some, hung out at the practice range, and usually sat together during meals. Hanzo found he didn't mind they weren't lovers much at all; simply having a friend was a novel experience.  
  
It was mid-afternoon, and Hanzo was outside the Watchpoint, fixing a tear in the seam of his jacket. You could practically hear the heat in the air; grasshoppers leapt out of the way as one walked in the scraggly, unwatered grass.  
  
Hanzo was surprised when McCree appeared. Well, not really. He was unexpected, but not very stealthy considering the spurs.  
  
“Mind if I join ya?” asked McCree, sauntering over.  
Hanzo thought back on his brother’s advice. _Not too eager._ “Go away.”  
  
McCree puffed out his cheeks and stopped in his tracks. “Okie dokie,” he said, turning on his heels. Curse him for respecting the clear boundaries Hanzo was accidentally setting! “See you at supper.”  
  
_WAIT NO,_ thought Hanzo. “I mean, hm. Yes. Stay. If you would like. But if you are busy, I understand.” Hanzo was pretty sure his ears were going to catch fire.  
  
McCree looked over his shoulder at Hanzo, doing his best to hide a smile. “Alrighty, partner.” He joined Hanzo, leaving a good three feet between them, and rested his elbows on his bent knees. “Whacha workin’ on?”  
Hanzo held up the jacket and showed McCree the rip in the seam. “Lena says it's because I’ve been wearing it too much.” McCree sputtered a laugh. He was, objectively, gorgeous. Hanzo admired how his eyes crinkled and his cheeks glowed.  
  
“Where’d you learn to sew?” asked McCree.  
  
Hanzo shrugged. “It was part of my training.”  
  
McCree leaned back against the wall of the building behind them, nodding slowing. “Gabe taught me, way back in the day. Said a soldier should always be able to repair their own gear.”  
  
Silence fell between them, but it was a comfortable silence, full of birdsong and waves crashing far below. McCree pulled out his communicator and lowered his hat to shield his face from the hot sun.  
  
Hanzo got back to trying to fix the jacket. He was having trouble for some reason; the needle didn’t seem to want to go where he needed it to. He kept having to pull it out and restart. So much trouble for such a small problem. He squinted and leaned down, trying to make out what exactly he was doing. Working with black thread on black fabric wasn’t helping.  
  
“Can you see alright?” asked McCree. Hanzo jumped at the sudden question.  
  
“Of course. Why.”  
  
“Cause you’re holding it like, five inches from your face,” said McCree. He reached into his breast pocket and produced reading glasses. “Here.”  
  
Hanzo scoffed a laugh. “My eyes are fine,” he said.  
  
McCree held them out. “Humour me anyway.”  
  
Hanzo gasped when he put them on, suddenly able to see individual threads. Oh _shit._ He needed reading glasses.  
  
McCree snorted. Hanzo’s gaze snapped up. McCree waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing, nothing,” he said. “Just your face.”  
  
“There is nothing wrong with my face,” said Hanzo.  
  
Hanzo could have sworn McCree’s tongue darted over his lower lip, if only for a moment. “Didn’t mean to imply there was,” said McCree.  
  
Hanzo stared at him, not sure he fully understood what McCree was trying to imply, before huffing with frustration and returning to the jacket. It was much faster now with the glasses.  
  
McCree returned to the communicator, a stupid smile on his face. Hanzo had the feeling he was being made fun of.  
  
Seagulls watched them from the sweltering rocks, shouting their warbled shouts. The sun almost seemed etched into the sky far above, unmoving and unflinchingly hot. Maybe Hanzo should get a hat. It seemed to work for McCree, who was much less bothered by the summer mid-afternoon. Or maybe that was just a side effect of growing up in a desert. He was immune.  
  
Hanzo smoothed out the jacket as he finished it. He _would_ try it on to make sure the problem was solved, but that would probably lead to him fainting. It looked fine. He would test it later.  
  
He suddenly found himself wishing for more time. Sure, it was unpleasantly warm, but this was the first time they'd been alone in days.  
  
“Thank you,” said Hanzo, handing back the glasses.  
  
McCree shook his head. “Keep ‘em. I’ve got plenty.”  
  
“Oh,” said Hanzo, surprised at the sudden gift. “Thank you.”  
  
Was he blushing? He was blushing. He returned the glasses to their protective case and slid them into a pocket of the now-repaired jacket.  
  
“You’re welcome,” said McCree.  
  
Hanzo fisted the dry grass in his hands, looking everywhere but McCree. “Unfortunately, I have nothing to repay you with.”  
  
McCree shrugged. “How’s about we just call you keeping me company payment enough.” His eyes were twinkling under the brim of his hat.  
  
Hanzo chuckled. “I can hardly stand myself, but if you say so.” He got up to leave. Supper would be soon, anyway. “Come, we can help them set the table.” He turned to look back when he didn’t hear footsteps following.  
  
McCree was still sitting, his brows furrowed and his lips pressed together. Hanzo flinched at the obvious concern.  
  
McCree stood, dusting off his jeans. “Yeah, let's go help out.” He sounded resigned.  
  
“What is it?” asked Hanzo. McCree brushed past him towards the entrance.  
  
“Nothing,” said McCree. The smile he gave Hanzo was genuine. Hanzo didn’t know how to press for an actual answer, as much as he wanted one. McCree held the door open. “After you.”  
  
“Thank you,” said Hanzo. The cool air inside was a relief. McCree followed right behind him, and the door swung shut with a heavy clank. Hanzo looked back over his shoulder as they walked to the kitchen. “You are sure nothing is wrong?”  
  
McCree patted Hanzo’s arm as he caught up to walk beside him. “It's all good, Hanzo. C'mon. Sooner we eat, sooner we can head on down to the practice range. You've got a score to beat.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was tired of writing so I relaxed by writing.
> 
> If you like my stuff, keep an eye on my work cause I've got about 25 000 words of canon AU from Gabe's perspective written and in various stages of editing. (Probably about a third of the way through the story I'm trying to tell. I intend to finish it and then post it all at once so I don't get folks attached to a fic that updates once a month.)
> 
> And later today (March 28th 2017) I have about 1000 words of Hanzo and Hana bonding to upload.
> 
> Comments make my day.


End file.
